


Idiot

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pining, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a gift fic for the lovely Meriah</p>
<p>Both Stiles and Derek are completely oblivious to one another's feelings for each other.  Thankfully Cora has had enough of their mutual pining and gives Stiles the nudge he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> written for the lovely Meriah (a-hi-functioning-sociopath over on tumblr; check her out, both her and her blog are brilliant). Happy birthday, dear! :)

“You’re an idiot.”

Stiles pauses mid chew to look up at Cora as she slips into the booth opposite him with a milkshake, scowling. She makes a disgusted noise when she sees the chewed up fries and reaches out to shut his mouth. He finishes eating and closes his textbook.

“Hello to you too, Cora,” he greets cheerfully. “I see your sunny disposition didn’t change while I was gone.”

It’s the first time he’s been home since he left for college almost four hundred miles away. It’s Christmas break and freezing out but he’s been home for three days now and he’s been pestered by Scott, dragged into some werewolf drama thanks to Isaac and he’s seen his dad and the brand new Mrs Stilinski (formerly McCall – and hadn’t he and Scott been overjoyed to find out they’re now officially brothers) kissing enough times to traumatize him. So he figured he’d go to the local diner to get his assignments finished. Unfortunately, it appears Cora Hale has other ideas.

She narrows her eyes, unimpressed.

“Left your humor at the door, huh?” he pauses to take a sip of his hot chocolate before asking, “So I’m an idiot?”

“Not just any idiot. The biggest fucking idiot I’ve ever come across.”

Stiles blinks. “Wow. Okay, yeah, you’ve just completely bypassed passive aggression there. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Why are you talking about my sister’s panties?”

Stiles jumps, startled, before looking up at Derek as he joins them. He hasn’t changed much in the months Stiles was away; same leather jacket, same broody disposition and sassy eyebrows, same ridiculously attractive everything. He’s clean shaven, though, whereas before he usually had some stubble going on. It’s a good look for him.

“Just getting some advice,” he says, offering a cheeky grin. “I’m wondering if pink satin or lacy boy shorts would suit me best.”

Cora chokes on a sip of her milkshake but Derek simply shakes his head. He’s more accustomed to Stiles’ remarks.

“You’re not funny,” he tells him.

“Screw you. I’m hilarious.” 

Derek wriggles his eyebrows in his patented _you’re an idiot_ look but there’s a small smile gracing his lips. A couple of years ago, Derek probably would have told Stiles to shut up. Maybe punctuated with a threat involving his teeth and Stiles’ throat. Also possible slamming against a wall.

Yeah, they didn’t have the best of relationship to start with. 

But after dealing with all the shit that flocked to Beacon Hills, working together as actual allies rather than fluctuating between helping each other and arguing about not trusting one another, something changed. They spent more time together and that eventually evolved to hanging out without it being because of some life dangerous situation hanging over their heads. 

They spent time as a pack, with Scott and the others, and somehow they ended up spending time just the two of them, with movie nights (he’d introduced Derek to classic horror movies and Derek had made him watch the _Indiana Jones_ movies. The look on Derek’s face when Stiles had insisted on watching _An American Werewolf in London_ was hilarious), teaching each other to cook (he taught Derek to make sausage and bean casserole; Stiles is forever grateful to Derek for showing him how to make poptarts just right so they’re the perfect balance of crumbly and gooey), going for treks in the woods and meeting for coffee at the diner. 

Somehow, they actually became friends. Like, _good_ friends. Even though Derek does seem to spend half the time wondering how the hell that happened and willing some deity to give him the patience to deal with Stiles. 

Still, he’ll take it. It’s better than constant sniping and wondering whether they can trust one another to have each other’s backs. Plus them actually getting along has really helped to keep the pack together and strong despite most of them being away at college. 

“You joining us?” Cora asks.

“I’m not sure if the textbook gave it away, but I was actually studying. Like, _alone_.”

She barely spares him a glance. “I don’t care.”

“Of course you don’t,” he sighs. “You’re a Hale.”

She looks at him properly then, eyes narrowing. “Meaning?”

“It’s fine,” Derek cuts in before their argument can escalate. “I was just getting a coffee.”

He nods once to Stiles and heads over to the counter. Cora shakes her head and pins Stiles with a disbelieving look.

“Idiot,” she reiterates.

“Oh my God, _why_? What have I even done?” he pauses briefly to think about it before adding, “Apart from breaking your phone before I left for college. But that was an accident and I’m like ninety percent sure you can’t hold that against me after all this time.”

“Wait, that was you?”

He blinks. “What? No, of course not. It was Scott.”

She raises her eyebrows, probably because she can hear his heartbeat and thus the lie, the expression a copy of Derek’s own judgemental look when Stiles tries to lie to him. 

“Idiot,” she repeats. 

He grumbles under his breath and opens his textbook, deciding to studiously ignore her. He doesn’t like spending excessive amounts of time around both Hale siblings at a time. Cora definitely got the same grumpy gene as her brother, except where Derek balances his broodiness out with brief flashes of humor and not actually being a total dick when you get to know him (after all, even before they were friends, he did protect Stiles and the others. He also tried to kill Lydia without waiting for proof and threatened to snap Stiles’ neck on a frequent basis, but Stiles likes to focus on the good stuff these days), Cora doesn’t often balance her bad moods out. Both of them together can be a bit much sometimes, especially when they start arguing.

Derek gets his coffee but pauses beside the booth on his way out. Stiles marks his place on his page and looks up at him.

“What’s up, big guy?”

“The pack’s supposed to meet once a month,” he reminds Stiles.

He frowns, perplexed. “Yeah, I know. It’s like the one thing Scott was insistent on.”

He’d told them all that they should meet up in Beacon Hills once a month to keep the pack ties strong, satisfy his need as an Alpha that they’re all safe and check that everything was okay with both each other and Beacon Hills. The wolves could handle full moons alone now – the restraint they have is remarkable – but it’s still good to keep close to the Alpha just in case.

“You haven’t.”

“Oh,” Stiles fiddles with his mug, shrugging. “Well, I’m human. I’m not as big a part of the pack as you guys, so, I mean, it’s not that important I come back so regularly, right? Besides, it’s kind of hard for me to come back monthly. I text Scott and Lydia practically every day so they know I’m okay.”

“Right,” it’s barely more than a grunt. 

And then Derek’s walking away. Stiles gapes after him for a moment, a little surprised at the abruptness, and quickly calls out, “I’ll see you around then?”

Derek lifts his hand in acknowledgement and leaves the diner. Stiles watches him go – putting a lot of effort into _not_ staring at Derek’s ass in his jeans – before twisting back to face Cora. She gives him a knowing look.

“Moron.”

“Stop insulting me.”

“Not until you get your head out of your ass.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” he huffs. “He was the one being seriously weird then. It’s not my fault Derek hasn’t developed basic social skills in my absence.”

“He was looking forward to you visiting, Stiles,” Cora tells him slowly, like she’s dealing with a complete fuckwit. “And then you didn’t show up. Or for the month after that.”

“Oh,” Stiles can’t help but smile, warmth fluttering in his belly. “He was?”

“He _likes_ you, Stiles. So do us all a favor and make a move so you can both stop pining for each other and we can all get some peace. Derek’s so fucking moody when you’re not here, it’s wearing us all down.”

Stiles stares at her, heart jumping at the revelation. “Really? Derek likes me?”

“Ugh,” she tilts her head back dramatically. “Look, I’m spending the night at a friend’s tonight so Derek has the loft to himself all night. Totally alone.” She gives him a pointed look.

“Erm,” he clears his throat. “Okay.”

“Do us all a favor,” she repeats as she gets to her feet. “I’ll see you around, Stiles.”

\---

Okay, so Stiles pretty much admitted to himself and accepted the fact that he’s ass over elbows for Derek a long time ago. After all, during the summer before he left for college, Stiles spent the majority of those three months with Derek. Scott spent as much time with Allison and Isaac as possible before they all separated for college, Lydia spent hours on Skype with Jackson and went on a cruise in July, so Stiles resorted to bugging Derek as a way to get out of the house. 

So at some point during the days spent on the sofa at Derek’s loft watching movie and TV show marathons, evenings spent cooking for each other, exploring the woods together, even sneaking into a bar a few times (something his dad definitely doesn’t know about), and the couple of times Stiles stayed so late Derek suggested he crashed the night on his sofa, Stiles’ feelings for Derek evolved into something _more_. And it snowballed from there, developing with each moment he spent with the guy, until, yeah, he’s kind of besotted with him. _Derek_. 

He, apparently, has a thing for falling for gorgeous, unattainable people.

Because that’s the thing; he never for one second suspected that Derek might return those feelings. Never entertained the idea that Derek could ever see him as more than a friend. Because it’s Derek and he’s just Stiles.

Except now Cora’s just thrown it out there, that little nugget of information that’s completely derailed Stiles. _Derek likes him too_. He struggles to process this fact but as he sits at his desk at home, mindlessly playing some online game as he thinks about his conversation with Cora, he comes to one conclusion: no way in _hell_ is he letting this opportunity slip by.

So he spends a couple of hours gearing himself up to it and when he feels brave enough, he gets in his Jeep and drives over to the loft. He doesn’t hesitate outside – knows his rapid heartbeat will be giving him away – and simply hammers the side of his fist on the door. It opens a moment later to reveal Derek, stood in sweatpants and a wife beater, and Stiles’ mouth goes dry at the sight. _Sweet holy hell on a cracker_.

“Stiles?” Derek looks slightly concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Why would anything be wrong?” _Smooth, Stilinski_.

“Your heart is beating really fast.”

“Right, yeah,” he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck before blurting out, “So you’re making me dinner.”

Derek’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “I am?”

“You are,” he confirms with a quick nod.

“I don’t really have anything in except cereal and some chips.”

“Oh,” Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs awkwardly. “Well, I guess we could always skip dinner and go straight to the making out part.”

If Stiles’ heart wasn’t pounding and he wasn’t so nervous, he’d find the expression on Derek’s face comical; as it is, he commits it to memory to snigger at later. He looks like Stiles has just hit him with a truck; his jaw goes slack, lips parting slightly in surprise as he blinks rapidly, clearly trying to process what Stiles just said.

“I...” his voice is barely a croak. He clears his throat and tries again. “What?”

“I mean,” Stiles backpedals quickly, heart clenching as he realizes that he might have this totally wrong and he’s completely humiliated himself. “Unless Cora was being a dick and just playing a prank or something. In which case, I’ve just fucked up and I’m going to go home and hide out for a few days, okay? Just pretend this didn’t happen -.”

Derek reaches out then, curling one arm around his waist and yanking him into the loft, using his free hand to slam the door closed and then cup the back of Stiles’ head so he doesn’t bang it when he pushes him back against the wall.

_Oh_.

Derek’s body presses against his, crowding him in, and Stiles has enough time to quickly rest his hands on Derek’s biceps before he closes the distance between their lips. It’s hard, almost bruising, Derek’s tongue slipping between his lips, claiming him. Stiles inhales sharply, surprised, but quickly catches on, kissing him back just as fiercely, claiming Derek in return. He groans into the kiss when Derek uses his knee to nudge Stiles’ apart and then settles his thigh between his, a firm pressure that drives Stiles crazy, his fingers biting into muscle as he grips Derek’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

Finally, Derek pulls back to let them breathe but doesn’t move far, pressing his forehead against Stiles’ as they catch their breath. He moves his hands up to cradle his face gently, thumbs pressing just beneath his jaw and Stiles hums at the touch, easing up his hold on Derek’s shoulders until he’s stroking the skin beneath his shirt gently, tracing the triskelion tattoo. 

“Oh,” he finally whispers, voice hoarse.

“Yeah.”

“We owe your sister.”

Derek smiles then, just a small twitch of his lips. “Yeah.”

Stiles grins. “So you like me back.”

Derek leans in and presses another kiss to his mouth, this one short and sweet. “Yeah.”

“Man of many words,” Stiles murmurs. “So I go back to college soon.”

He growls quietly, a reprimand before he mutters, “Mood kill, Stiles.”

“Sorry,” he shrugs. “But I figured I could try and come back every month for those meetings.”

Derek’s lips twitch again. “Good.”

“And if I can’t make it, there’s always Skype,” he offers a dirty smile. “I hear Skype sex is fantastic.”

Derek buries his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck, shoulders shaking as he laughs. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“Always,” Stiles smiles. “So what do you think?”

Derek lifts his head to look at him, thumb stroking along his jaw as he says, “Yeah.” And he leans in to kiss him again, slow and sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr: abansheewithoutherhuntress.tumblr.com
> 
> Come talk Teen Wolf with me?


End file.
